NovelApexAlthough Jessica had left the Gilded Whisper Estates, her business there wasn't truly finished. That's why she
didn't reach out to Herbert, but instead returned to her own small apartment.
Back in her own space, she felt herself relax, the heavy tension of the Estates finally falling away.
Today happened to be Timothy's birthday.
No wonder he never celebrated it. Now she understood-the day also marked the anniversary of his mother's
death.
She remembered a twhen she'd tried to throw him a birthday party. He'd gotten angry, and she'd been hurt
by his reaction. Knowing now that he had his reasons, she found herself strangely numb. The answer had come
too late.
If she'd known earlier, maybe her hurt would have faded, replaced by sympathy or even guilt. She might have
sought him out to apologize, to offer comfort. But everything, she realized, seemed orchestrated by fate.
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She and Timothy were simply from different worlds. They never should have crossed paths in the first place.
Tonight, she suspected neither Sheila nor the Lawsons would be able to sit still. Let them wrestle with each
other; only then could she slip away quietly tomorrow.
Sheila had prepared everything, taking a steadying breath as she did.
Lately, Timothy had seemed more attentive to Jessica, but Sheila's presence had finally severed Jessica's last tie
to the marriage. Sheila had been careful not to show too much in front of Jessica-always wary that Jessica might
tell Timothy something. But now, there was nothing left to fear. Jessica herself was letting go. If Sheila tried hard
enough, maybe she could win Timothy's heart back. She walked to his door and knocked softly. "Timothy."
Timothy emerged from his room, his handsfeatures shadowed and somber.
Sheila knew he was wrapped in grief. She kept her voice gentle. "You haven't eaten anything tonight. | asked the
kitchen to send something up. Please, try to eat before you go back."
"I'm not hungry," he said quietly.
It was the sort of day when food had no taste.
Sheila's eyes grew sad. "I've never celebrated my birthday-not once. Would you sit withfor a birthday
dinner? There's no cake, no celebration. Just a meal. Would that be all right?"
Sheila had been born the sday Timothy's mother died. His
grandparents, who had only ever had one child, found Sheila-an abandoned newborn-on the hfrom the
hospital after their daughter's passing. Timothy's grandmother always believed Sheila was a gift from above, a
consolation for her loss. Though the age gap was wide, they told others she was their goddaughter, but in truth,
raised Sheila as their own.
With things laid out so plainly, Timothy couldn't refuse. Because of his mother, his grandparents had never
celebrated Sheila's birthday on this day, despite their love for her.
"All right," he agreed.
On the table, a decanter of wine waited, breathing beside their plates.
As Sheila reached for the bottle to pour, Timothy paused and caught her wrist. "You forgot you're not supposed
to drink."
"I'll just have a small glass, all right? The doctor said a little won't hurt."
No cake, no presents-if she couldn't even have a sip of wine, it would seem too cruel.
Timothy said nothing more.
Sheila poured him a glass as well.
She lifted her own. "Timothy, this is all I'll have. The first sip, | offer in memory of my sister-may she rest in
peace."
She took a gentle sip. Timothy, lost in his own turmoil, downed half his glass in one go. On nights like this, wine
was the only thing that made sense.
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